


The Weirdo On Maple Street

by ItsFunnierInEnochian42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Captain!Jody, M/M, detective!dean, witch!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 14:51:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12707175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsFunnierInEnochian42/pseuds/ItsFunnierInEnochian42
Summary: Dean is a detective and has to take a case that is way too easy for what he's been trained for. Or so it seems.





	The Weirdo On Maple Street

**Author's Note:**

> So before I show you what I got, I wanna apologize because apparently the words SHORT and STORY put together don’t mean shit to me, and again, I’m here with a oneshot of a few (ok, a lot) more pages than expected (who needs sleep anyway) and I’ve kinda freaked out about this one and had a little nervous breakdown because I had a deadline for this (today) and JFC is my life a mess right now.
> 
> Second apology : I also managed (by again, not sleeping) to watch 9 hours of Netflix and I went through the entire Stranger Things second season in one day and I AM OBSESSED so yes, you guys who watched it might notice a few references, starting with the title (don’t worry, those who haven’t, no spoilers)
> 
> Third and last apology : I may or may not REALLY need to sleep by now, so I’m really sorry if this is full of mistakes and bad grammar. The english part of my french canadian brain kinda shuts down pass a certain time. On top of that, I’m a teeny tiny bit drunk (rough week, ya know)
> 
> SO HERE WE GO

 

Dean was staring at his coffee monotonously, his eyes glazed, as the cream swirled into the blackness. A single donut was sitting on a folded paper napkin beside his keyboard, and his screen was softly buzzing as his computer slowly - so _excruciatingly_ slowly - booted up.

Monday mornings were always like this : in slow-motion, quiet and boring as all hell. Even when Dean was working on Saturdays and Sundays. There was like a curse on every Monday mornings, and there will always be.

“Good morning, Champ!” A feminine voice chirped in, accompanied by a huge clap on Dean’s shoulder, making him jump out of his skin.

“Jesus Christ, Jody, warn a guy next time” Dean grumbled as his heart slammed in his ribcage. “I almost reached for my gun.”

“Not my fault if you’re a sissy” she replied, a smirk stretching her lips.

“Not my fault if you’re ugly as fuck either” Dean mumbled under his breath.

“Hey! I heard that! Have some respect for your superior, Winchester.”

“You’re my aunt.”

“Outside this place, yes. In here, I’m your boss.”

“Sorry, _Captain”_ Dean said, emphasizing the title.

“Apologies accepted, _Inspector”_ Jody answered on the same tone. “Now back to work. Crime won’t stop itself.”

His day was slow, the slowest he’s had in a while as an inspector. Dean focused on his paperwork, answering or making occasional calls, getting up every now and then to get another coffee. His partner, Benny, came in a little past eight, and both of them worked -and took their sweet time- on filling their late reports and giving them to Jody. They ended up eating in the lounge reserved for employees, watching a bit of tv and talking about the next step for one or two investigations they were working on.

Around 4PM though, Benny decided to go back home, tired of losing his time playing Tetris on his computer. Dean wished him a good night, and he stayed a little bit longer to finish hi last report (thank God).

If it wasn’t for all the paperwork, Dean would always be working. He wasn’t made for a desk job and a normal schedule, nine to five, a wife, 2.5 kids, a dog and a pool. He loved his job, with all the overtime and the crazy hours. He started as a small, no-name cop, like everyone. He gave parking and speeding tickets, answered the usual drunk teenagers wandering in the park calls, the fewer home violence calls. Then after a few years he had a chance to apply for a new job, and he took it. He went back to school and passed his classes with an honourable mention, and soon enough he became a homicide detective. Saving people, hunting monsters… That’s what he was born to do, he knew it. It was written in his bones, he could feel it deep in his core. He was meant to catch bad guys.

Not write about them in a stupid report.

By 4:45PM, his belt was digging painfully in his belly, his dress shirt was itchy and his back was sore from sitting all day, so he decided to call it. He was putting his coat on when Jody stormed out of her office.

“Dean, were you leaving?”

“Yeah, I’m done for the day. If I stare one more second at my computer screen, my eyes are going to burn. Why? Someone got killed?”

“No, no, nothing like that. We have a thing going on on Maple Street, some neighbour’s quarrel.”

“And?”

“Could you take it?”

“Jody, you know I’m not a trooper anymore. Unless someone died during said quarrel, it’s none of my business.”

“I know, I know, but Charlie and Dorothy are busy trying to pull a cat down a tree, Kevin and Chuck are with that guy who stole a pack of gum in a grocery store -seriously how stupid can people be-, Pam and Garth are dealing with a car accident on the other side of town, and Meg and Michael are in the middle of an interrogation.”

“Come on, Jody…”

“I’ll make you pie. Please Dean…”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You know that’s unfair, right?”

“Thank you!” Jody said with a smile as she closed her door.

“Hope your apple pie is friggin worth it!” he yelled.

“You know it is!” she yelled back.

 

***

 

Dean jumped in his 1967 Impala and drove to the address Jody had texted him. When he parked his car in front of 3542 Maple Street, everything was quiet.

_So much for a quarrel_ , Dean thought to himself.

He climbed out, making sure he had his badge in his coat pocket and that his gun was hanging at his belt, and walked slowly to the front door. When he reached the porch, he rang the doorbell and was welcomed with a loud “What the _fuck_ do you want now?”

Dean immediately put a hand on his gun, noticing the aggressiveness in the tone. The door opened to reveal a small man all dressed in black, a scruffy beard hiding half of his face. Dean was lucky people couldn’t kill with a stare because wow, he would be dead before touching the ground.

“Fergus MacLeod?” Dean asked tentatively.

“What do you want?”

“You called us about a… disturbing neighbour” Dean said, pulling his badge out of his pocket. “Can I come in?”

“About time you get your ass down here!” the man said, stepping away to let Dean come inside. “The bastard is driving me crazy.”

He motioned for Dean to sit down on the couch in the living room and went in the kitchen to fetch them a glass of water.

“So, tell me how this all started.”

“You’re not taking notes or anything?” Fergus asked, not seeing Dean pull a notepad out of his coat.

“I have a good memory, don’t worry.”

“Okay, then. I had a dog. Juliet. She was really adorable and I loved her with all my heart.”

“What type of dog?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Just answer my question please, Mr. McLeod.”

“A Mastiff.”

Dean choked on his water. “You call a beast like that _adorable_?!” Fergus looked at Dean like he just had said the worst possible thing at the moment. “Sorry, my bad. Go on.”

“So Juliet escaped one night, about two weeks ago, and she went into this Giraffe’s yard.”

“Sorry but, huh, the Giraffe is the neighbour you called about, right?”

“Who else would it be?” Fergus answered on a condescending tone.

“Do you have his real name?”

“Something like Costel or Castle or whatever, he has a weird name, I can’t remember it.”

“Okay, so Juliet escaped in Mr. Neighbour’s yard. What happened next?”

“I guess she didn’t like him because she took a huge crap there. The bastard wanted me to come pick it up, but said that I will stay where I am as long as he doesn’t speak to me with respect.”

“That’s a normal request, as far as I know.”

“He never apologized or asked on a different tone. Instead, he shovelled the thing back in my yard. Then he asked me to pick up the leaves my oak tree makes in his yard, too. I refused. And now, weird things are happening around here and I’m sure it’s him. He wants a revenge or something in the like.”

“What kind of weird things?”

“Weird things! Juliet disappeared, for beginners. All doors were locked she was inside with me. I went in the bathroom upstairs and took a shower, and when I came back down, she had vanished into thin air. My lights flicker for no reason. My water turned black the other day.”

“Oookay, and what happened today? Why did you call us?”

“I went grocery shopping. I put everything in the fridge when I got back, I turned my back to make myself a drink and when I opened the fridge again, all my food was rotten.”

“Rotten?”

“Yes, rotten, dumbass, do you need a drawing?”

“Please calm down Mr. MacLeod, I’m just trying to understand. It’s, huh… unusual.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Are you deaf? What. Are. You. Gonna. Do?”

“Well, for starters, I’ll go talk to this neighbour of yours. Then, we’ll see what can be and can’t be done.” Dean stood up, putting his half empty glass of water on the coffee table near the couch. “Thanks for your help, Mr. MacLeod. We will tell you whenever we have something new for you.”

Dean walked out of Fergus MacLeod’s house and took a deep breath. He’d seen some weird shit in his career but missing dogs and instant rotting food was a first. He knew the man inside was a nutcase, but he also knew said nutcase was watching his every move right now, so he head left, toward the neighbour’s house. He couldn’t tell him to check his behaviour, there was no behaviour witnessed. But he would at least tell the man to try to stay calm in the presence of Mr. MacLeod, since he was a bit deranged.

When the door opened, Dean’s jaw fell to the ground. When Fergus had called his neighbour a Giraffe, Dean had expected a really tall guy, basketball player style. Instead, he got a man about his height with dark hair, almost black, the most kissable lips he had ever seen and eyes so blue they could’ve been pieces of the sky.

“Can I help you?”

It took Dean a few tries before he could form a sentence coherent enough for the man to answer.

“H-hi…”

“Hi” the man answered, tilting his head to the side. A long silence ensued, during which Dean got lost again in the stranger’s eyes. “Anything I can do for you?” he asked again, bringing Dean back to earth.

“Huh, yeah sorry” he answered, shaking himself. “I just talked to your neighbour here and it seems he’s having a problem with you. I just wanted to check if you guys had the same version of the events and try to find a solution for both of you.”

The stranger rolled his eyes and stepped aside, motioning for Dean to enter the house. They talked for about half an hour, but it didn’t take long for Dean to notice this man was hiding something. He was good at hiding it, but Dean had years and years of experience dealing with liars and he could know one easy enough. And this guy was lying about his involvement in all that crap that was going on. Dean just needed to figure out how he was able to do his tricks.

Regardless of the stranger’s guilt, Dean wasn’t unaffected by his charm. He was smiling at him, throwing a few winks here and there when appropriate, and his voice was the most unique Dean had ever heard. If he had to put an image on it, he would say it sounded like the whisper of the wind just before a huge storm ; soft, yet full of power. He couldn’t stop listening, the words rolling off his tongue like trickling water. It took all Dean’s willpower not to stare when the man licked his lower lip. He caught him staring at him too, and he hope in the back of his head that he was as affected as he was.

As he finally got up to leave though, he realized he’d given his name, but never asked for the name of the stranger in return.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t remember your name.” Dean said nonchalantly.

“That’s because I never told you.”

“Well, what is it?”

“That’s a shame, I never give my full name to strangers… Maybe if you buy me a drink, I could let it slip.”

_Wow okay, he can’t be more straightforward._

“Huh… You know, I’d like to, but I can’t really go out with suspects in an investigation.”

“That’s what it is? An investigation?”

_Is it just me or he suddenly looks anxious?_

“For now, I’m afraid it is.”

“Okay… so let’s say that you go hang out at this bar on 15th Avenue tomorrow night. If I randomly end up at the same bar, then we’re not really going out. It’s just a coincidence, am I right?”

“You are.

“Then I guess I’ll find my way to this bar tomorrow.” He added before closing the door softly.

Dean stood there for a long moment, wondering what the hell just happened. Did this guys really asked him out? Was he really gonna go to the bar? Because let’s face it, he wanted to go, but was this really professional? No. This wasn’t even a question. It wasn’t. But no one would know about their little agreement, except them…

“Ugh, what the hell” Dean grunted as he finally moved toward his car. He had a solid 24 hour to think about it. He’d decide tomorrow.

 

***

 

Dean would eat his right hand before admitting that he’d decided what to do the night before. By 7PM, he was sitting on a stool at the bar on 15th Avenue, a cold beer sitting in front of him, pearls of condensation slowly navigating down the glass towards the black coaster. He was occasionally looking around, looking at the crowd, not searching _at all_ for dark messy hair and blue eyes.

He was finishing his second beer and was about to give up when someone sat down on the stool beside him.

“Hello, Detective.”

“Hey there. And please don’t call me that. I’m off the job.”

“In that case…” the man lifted a hand toward the bartender. “Whiskey on the rocks for me, and another beer for my friend Dean here.”

Dean scoffed. “Wasn’t I supposed to buy the drinks?”

“Don’t be scared. The night is young.”

Indeed it was. Dean ended up getting back home well past midnight, with a stupid grin plastered on his face. He went to bed soon after, knowing well enough that he would regret his late escapade in the morning. He fell asleep with the stranger’s name on his lips, and an idea forming in his head.

“Castiel.”

 

***

 

Castiel arrived home around 1AM, completely exhausted. He’d spent the day getting ready to potentially throw that detective on false tracks, but in the end, all his preparation was useless. Dean hadn’t even breached the subject once during the evening, and Castiel had a feeling that the man was actually interested in him. Castiel had to admit, he also was kind of attracted to him as well. Too bad they hadn’t met in other circumstances.

He went down to his basement and opened a dusty cabinet full of candles of every possible color. He grabbed a black one, before pulling out a picture of his neighbour out of his pocket. He’d taking it himself this morning as he was walking to his car to go to work.

Castiel turned around and placed the candle on the altar next to the cabinet, the photo next to it. He lit up the candle and waited for the wax to melt. When the liquid wax started to drip, he lifted the black candle and slowly poured the wax on Fergus’ picture, reciting the incantation :

 

“ _Et hoc sicut lucerna execratione maledicta congessit_  
III noctibus in infernum producat hostium tuam  
Lucerna atra nox atra  
Afferte huc illum solutis doloribus carnes nocte  
et cum laesionibus cutis crescere in sua  
Ne adfligas eum per plaga pessima vehementer  
Nunc dolor digeruntur scabie quoque affligere  
Miror quomodo se tibi ad III noctibus  
Tenebris Duces, Regum ex inferno,  
Percutiat inimicos, adduc inferos  
Cum enim praeteriti doloris III noctibus  
Bene fac ei, atque tandem”

 

When his ritual was done, he blew out the candle, watching the wax solidify rapidly on the photo. A wicked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

_Now that will show him_ , he thought.

 

***

 

Dean arrived at work a lot later than usual, his eyes still glued together, squinting like light, natural or not, had personally offended him. He sat at his desk with his usual cup of coffee and opened his computer, but before he could even take a sip of the hot beverage, Jody appeared next to him.

“Had a late one last night?” she asked playfully.

“Not what you think.” Dean muttered.

“What I think isn’t important. As long as you had fun. And as long as you used protection.”

“Jody, come on-”

“Hey, if we can’t talk about it, we shouldn’t be doing it, right?”

“Why are you here?”

“I work here, idiot.”

“No, I mean..” Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Jody was definitely doing it on purpose. “Why are you at my desk?”

“Mr. McLeod called while you were probably still sleeping.” She handed him a small piece of paper with a phone number on it. “He said he had new information and that you should call him as soon as possible.”

“Will do.” Dean said, taking the piece of paper from Jody. “Now get off my desk. I have work to do.”

Dean took a few more minutes to wake up at his desk and around 10:30AM, he finally grabbed his phone and called the number stuck on the side of his computer screen. It barely rang once before someone picked up.

“Detective?” said a shaky voice.

“Good morning Mr. McLeod. You have new details for me?”

“You’re gonna think I’m completely crazy, but you must already think I am so I’ll just tell you anyway.” Dean waited a few seconds, letting Fergus take a few breaths to calm himself down. “He’s in my head.”

“Who’s in your head, Mr. McLeod?”

“My crazy neighbour, who else?”

“And what makes you think he can read your mind?”

“Not read my mind. I swear, you are the most useless detective I’ve ever met. _In my head_. He made me dream last night, I saw him in my mind.”

Dean suddenly got serious. That sounded familiar, and that small sentence about dreaming and seeing someone in your mind brought him back 15 years ago.

“Okay Mr. Mcleod. You are gonna stay home today. I’m going to verify a few things and call you again tomorrow morning.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I never said that. I _do_ believe you. Trust me, okay? Just stay put and call me if anything weird happens again.” Dean gave him his personal phone number before hanging up.

If Dean was right, then it would explain everything; the corrupted food, the mysterious disappearance of McLeod’s dog, the dreams… But he needed to test something first. If that worked, then he would’ve guessed right. If not, he was back to square one.

He jumped out of his chair, fully awake now, and walked to Jody’s office. He poked his head through the door.

“I gotta go. I have… errands to run.”

Talk about lame excuses.

Jody wasn’t buying it either.

“When will you be back?”

“Tomorrow. Can’t come back in today.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.

“Please, just… it might help the McLeod thing. Just trust me, and don’t ask too many questions.”

“You know I trust you. Just don’t do anything too stupid.”

“I’ll try.”

Dean ran out the door before she could answer.

 

***

 

Thursday morning, Dean was at work at 5AM, unable to sleep. He needed to know if his idea had worked. He needed to know if he was right.

He filed reports and drank coffee after coffee. He walked around and went out to buy muffins and donuts for everyone, filed more reports. By 7AM, he couldn’t wait any longer. He picked up his phone and called Fergus.

“Hello?” answered a groggy voice.

“Good morning Mr. McLeod. Detective Winchester speaking. How are you today?”

“Better, actually. I slept like a baby, until you woke me up.”

“I apologise. I’ll leave you to it then.”

“You called me only to ask how I was?”

“Yep. That’s all.”

“You are in fact useless.”

“Think whatever you want. I can only tell you that your neighbour will leave you alone. Have a nice day.”

Dean hung up before grabbing his keys and a chocolate chips muffin, and almost ran outside to his Baby. If Fergus slept well, then most chances were Castiel slept like shit. He was about to find out.

He was in front of Castiel’s house in no time.He was vibrating with excitement and expectation, still not entirely sure he’d found the answer to all this. He half hoped he was right, and half hoped he was wrong, both options having different consequences.

Dean got out of his car and walked to the front door before hammering the door with his fist. A few seconds later, Castiel opened. He was already dressed, but his shirt was wrinkled, his jeans dirty, and he had bags under his eyes the size of Dean’s badge.

“Good morning, Castiel.” Dean said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “May I come in?”

He didn’t wait for Castiel’s approval, pushing him aside and stepping in.

“What are you doing? Don’t you think it’s a little early for this?” His voice was even deeper than usual.

“I could ask you the same thing” Dean replied “but I think I know. Actually, I’m pretty sure I know. You look like you didn’t sleep at all, am I right? Lots of nightmares and stuff.”

“How did you know that?”

Dean shrugged. “Well, first you look the part. And second, I think you know _you_ are responsible for the night you just had. I’m a bit responsible too, but you know. If you haven’t cast that spell in the first place, maybe we wouldn’t be here this morning.”

Castiel was looking at Dean the way someone would look at an alien coming down from the sky and telling him it wanted to learn about football.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Castiel answered unconvincingly.

“Stop playing games with me, man.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know what you are. I know what you’ve done.”

Castiel looked at Dean like he didn’t understand a word of what he was babbling about. He was pretty convincing, and Dean thought for a fraction of a second that maybe he was wrong, maybe he’d made a mistake and confused the hell out of that guy, but then, Castiel’s expression changed. His shoulders went down, his eyes started to shine, and a devilish grin appeared on his lips.

“Okay. You got me.”

_That’s it?!_

Dean looked at Cas, waiting for him to react. That couldn’t be it.

“So you know I’m a witch. Good job detective. Really, you are the first one to ever find out. Usually people have… suspicions, but they can’t prove it, and anyway it’s way too hard to believe that witches exist in the first place.”

“Yeah, well, I’m good at what I do.” Dean answered, not an ounce of humor in his tone.

“I just wonder how you managed to solve this in less than a week. Unless-” Castiel’s eyes widened. “You said you were a bit responsible for it. You’re...:”

“Bingo” Dean answered, finding satisfaction in Castiel’s surprise.

“You’re a witch too.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“How did you-”

“A simple mirror spell. Come on, _Three Nights of Hell_? That was your move? Making your neighbour cry in his sleep for three days? It was easy really. I thought that if it was really you, Fergus would sleep well and you would look like Hell - pun intended. And would you look at that : He slept like a baby and you didn’t sleep at all.”

Castiel smiled. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Well, first I can always keep the mirror spell on and prevent you from revoking yours, so you’ll still have a few hellish nights. But we can also discuss this like adults.”

“What do you want?”

“It’s that bad, huh? I’ve never been the victim of that spell but I’ve heard some horror stories.”

“What. Do you. Want.”

“Where’s Juliet?”

“Juliet?”

“The dog. Where’s the dog?”

Castiel turned around and pointed to his kitchen. “Follow me.”

They both entered the open space and Castiel pointed to a fish bowl with a Beta lazily swimming around. Dean looked at it, surprised.

“You’re kidding me right?”

“Well, I don’t know if you know, but a Mastiff is kinda fucking huge, and I don’t have the strength nor the patience to take care of it. A fish is a lot easier to deal with.”

“You’ll give it back to Mr. McLeod. Not as a fish, but as a dog, and believe me I will know if you did it or not. No more tricks. You give it back in the same state as you took it.”

“I will.”

“Today.”

“Yes” Castiel sighed. “Today.”

“Good. One last thing.”

“What.”

“Go out with me.”

Castiel looked at Dean like he was an alien for the second time in under 10 minutes.

“What?”

“You heard me. Even though you act like a child when you’re angry at people.. I kinda like you, and I had fun the other night. How about we do that again?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“You always do. But I know you like me too.”

Castiel looked down at his hands. He was playing with his shirt, visibly nervous. This wasn’t what he’d expected, but at the same time, he _did_ like the detective. And he _did_ have fun the other day, a lot more than he thought possible. He’d never really tried to date anyone because hiding that you’re a witch to people around you isn’t always easy. Plus he could live a lot longer than any normal human being, so why bother developing feelings for someone if there was no way to make them live forever with you? But Dean was a witch, too…

“I’d like that.” Castiel finally answered with a smile.


End file.
